Plastic
Everywhere
Fort Greene Park
Farmers’ Market
On a rainy Saturday Morning
After Friday’s Noahic rains.
People shopping for the vegetables
Artesian breads and meats
Fruits.
At a stand
A middle-aged progressive
Blissfully packs
Apples into Plastic bags
“Do you where that goes?” I ask.
Stumped by the unexpected question, I answered for him,
“To the sea, but you know that.”
His eyes narrowed and brow goes eleven.
He hates me.
He hates my speaking to him.
I don’t blame him.
I am a hypocrite.
“I don’t want to get my bread wet.”
Artesian bread.
“Would you want to eat wet bread?”
“Sure, may I have a hunk?
I like artesian bread.
I walk away
Happy to have upset him
Happy to be a hypocrite.
My fish is in a plastic bag.
Deconsume